


I want to be more than just sorry for myself

by lavender_macaronss



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Crying, Dream is so mean smh, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I’m literally brainrotting, Toby Smith | Tubbo is really sad, Yeah that one line about the discs had me in tears, Your honor they are nest friends, let them be happy, no beta we die like men, please, so I wrote this, why did he yell at Tubbo??? Why??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28579548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavender_macaronss/pseuds/lavender_macaronss
Summary: Tubbo is tired. He wants his best friend back, he wants to keep his county safe and most of all he wants to be safe again.Tommy can’t give him all three, but two is enough, right?
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 15
Kudos: 138





	I want to be more than just sorry for myself

**Author's Note:**

> This has nothing to do with my current ongoing fic, I just wrote a little drabble because of tonight’s stream (January 5th 2021) 
> 
> Basically Dream being mean to Tubbo made me incredibly sad so I turned into a good ol’ pile of hurt/comfort

Tubbo is tired. More tired than he’s ever been, in his whole career as the president. He sits down on the grass the night of what was meant to be a festival. The second festival of L’Manburg.

He pulls his tie loose, sweating and exhausted. The grass is itchy, but he can’t bring himself to care as he lays down and shuts his eyes, still aching from the fight with Tommy. He thinks of his best friend’s- can he even call him that anymore?- face contorted in rage.

“The discs are worth more than you ever were!” He hears Tommy scream. The words play over and over in his mind. It feels painful. The words hit him like a slap in the face. It’s physically painful to think about tomorrow...and Tommy’s...outburst. They’d never tried to kill each other like that before today. 

He wonders where Tommy is. Wonders how he feels about this all. He thinks of Tommy suddenly stopping his rant and just staring at him. Silence. He thinks of the broken “I-I’m sorry- Tubbo, I’m so sorry.” That had followed shortly after the stinging words. 

He sighs loudly and rubs his temples. Dream’s insults bounce around in his skull, Tommy’s words only making it hurt more.

“You’re the worst President L’Manburg has ever had.”  
“You’re an idiot.”  
“You’ve betrayed everyone.”  
“You’re the shit friend, Tubbo.”

He feels burning tears well up in his eyes. He doesn’t want to cry right now, but he’s not sure how to stop himself. So he sucks in a breath and tries to at least not make a sound while he’s crying. 

While he’s at it, he yanks off his presidential blazer roughly, almost tearing it in his haste to get it off his skin. He lets out a quiet sob, anger and exhaustion and sadness coming together in one pathetic little noise. He feels pathetic. President shouldn’t cry, he thinks bitterly, hiccuping softly.

He curls in on himself and hugs his knees. Pathetic, he thinks again. The sobs grow louder, and there’s not a thing he can do to stop them. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat, tries to regulate his breathing, but he can’t manage to do so. His anger at himself for crying in the first place only serves to make him cry more.

Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him. They crunch against the grass. Hastily he wipe his face and sniffles, attempting to cover up what he had been doing. He turns around and sees Tommy.

“T-Tom.” He stutters, his voice wrecked. 

The taller teen doesn’t say anything. Just stares. Tubbo sniffles softly, humiliation coming off him in waves. Tommy’s eyes are wide. Scared, almost.

“Tommy?” He doesn’t want to think that he’s upset his friend again. 

“Did- did what I said-? Did I make you cry?” Tommy manages, stumbling over his words 

“No- I mean, Yes- No! I don’t know!” Tubbo stutters, sobbing out the end to f the sentence. He already feels pathetic for crying, but upsetting Tommy makes it so much worse. He just wants his friend back. He wants back the days on that stupid rickety bench, looking at the sunset and listening to the discs. 

The discs that matter so much more than he does. 

Suddenly Tommy is at his side, falling into an old routine. He’s there in a flash, gently shushing Tubbo’s wrecked cries. He reaches out to touch Tubbo, but stops himself, giving the shorter a questioning look to ask if he can. Tubbo nods slowly, because he knows that Tommy’s always been good at the whole physical comfort thing. 

Warm hands wrap around him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wonders why Tommy is always so warm. He feels like sunshine, Tubbo’s always thought. That familiar touch reminds of just how touch starved he’s been since Tommy went away.

“I’m sorry, Tom- please, Tommy. I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to- I never meant to send you away! I just wanted- I just wanted L’Manburg to be s-safe.” He babbles in between his broken sobs, his whole body shaking.

Tommy just holds him, rubbing soothing circles into his back. His sunlight warmth makes Tubbo feel like he’s safe. Tommy has that effect on him. He wants to say sorry a million times, but he doesn’t. He can’t bring himself to say anything more. All he manages is loud cries that wrack through his whole body

“Shh, Tubbo. You were right. I fucked up. Don’t cry, Shh, don’t be sorry.” Tommy whispers to him. 

Eventually his breathing slows, and he manages to calm down. The tears stop flowing and he breathes easily for the first time in what feels like months.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel like you did anything wrong, Tubbo. I didn’t want to admit that I was in the wrong.” 

Tubbo hiccups softly. “...’S okay, Tom. I should never have- I missed you. I missed you every day. God I wanted to sit on that stupid bench with you so much...Dream’s right, huh? I really am the worst president.” Tubbo chuckles bitterly. Tommy still hasn’t let him go, clinging to him like he used to before the wars. Before any of this. 

Their friendship is older than this whole country, Tubbo thinks. 

“You’re not the worst. You haven’t blown anything up, for one. And you haven’t got any addictions. You’re the best president, to me,” Tommy says, his stupid joke about addictions pulling a tired laugh from Tubbo, “I missed you too. I missed you so damn much. I stared at that compass for hours. I missed you every day, every hour, every minute, every second. I wanted to see you so badly.” 

“I held mine in my off hand every second of the day, Tommy. I’m sorry I never visited. I-I just assumed you hated me. I thought you never wanted to s-see me again.”

“Tubbo...You know I could never wish that. I need you, like how a streamer needs his primes.” 

Tubbo makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob at that. Tommy just smiles, though Tubbo noticed that the blonde is crying too. 

They’re together for the first time in ages, and that makes them both feel something...strange. Something new. A happy sort sad.

Tubbo is scared, tired and happy and sad and the only way he can think to react is to cling onto Tommy like the taller had always joked about. Tommy doesn’t seem to mind.

He doesn’t. Tommy doesn’t mind Tubbo’s death grip because it means that the smaller teen is still willing to touch him. To be friends with him. It makes him feel like crying, the happiness he feels from finding out that his best friend doesn’t want him dead. 

They’re together again. They may be hours away from doomsday, but they’re together. That’s enough for them.

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments mean so much to me, so any critiques, complaints or compliments are totally welcome! Remember to have something to eat and drink some water today 
> 
> :]


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